Leaving Town
by Blitz
Summary: Ten years later, the X-Men are brought back together again, but things change for the worse. Song fic. Someone PLEASE review!


AllWounds.html Disclaimer: Story is mine and it broke my heart to write it. This is what I think worst case scenario would be. Best case would be them forming the X-Men team we all know and love in the comics! The song is Leaving Town by Dexter Freebish.   
Summary: What will happen to the X-Men in 10 years? Does time really heal all wounds? Or just deepen them?   


All Wounds 

_Oh your reputation so golden_   
_You're never lonely and you're never home_   
_I know you've been talking about leaving_   
_You've lost all your feeling for this town_

Scott Summers turned the wheel of his car until he was driving through a once familiar wooded area. Instinctively, he reached up to brush the ruby quartz visor. He slowed the car to 30 miles per hour to take in the scenery. Nearly every tree was in place, save for a few saplings trying to make their way into the harsh world, forcing themselves between the trees. Scott reached one hand over to his suit and pulled it down to straighten it, erasing any wrinkles that it may have had. 

Keeping one eye on the road, one eye on the rearview mirror to check his reflection, he followed the signs until he was within view of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning. A few drops of rain began to spatter on the hood of his car. It had been ten years since he had even so much as set foot on the grounds. And, after the funeral, he knew he would never set foot there again. 

_Paint your nails and put on your lipstick_   
_You don't want to miss your ticket out_   
_Just because you graduated from school_   
_So high in the gene pool that's point of view_

"Kitty? Are you ready to go?" 

Kitty Pryde heard her fiancé calling from down the stairs and she quickly wiped the mascara from under her tear-filled eyes. Despite her wanting to, she smiled at her lover's voice, his accent still somewhat noticeable in his voice. "Coming," she called. She dabbed at her eyes with tissues and placed her sunglasses on, put on some lipstick, and hurried down the stairs, stumbling a bit in her high heels. 

"You look beautiful," he said, hugging her close and kissing the top of her head. She knew he was trying to make up for her loss. She sniffed and smiled. 

"Come on, Peter, we'll be late." Lightning struck in the distance. 

_But when you're broken down_   
_And no one else is around_   
_You'll come running back to this town_   
_And I'll be there, yeah I'll be there_

Kurt Wagner picked up the rarely used image inducer, slipping it on his wrist, and pressing the button. Immediately, he was once more a high school student from Bayville. Had he been a high school student from Bayville, he would have been pleased with the image inducer. But now, it did nothing for him. He clicked it off and placed it on his dresser, straightening the white color of his shirt and tucking the golden cross into his suit. 

"Sehen sie sie auf der anderen seite, mein freund." With a *bamf*, he teleported from his room and into the woods in the Xavier Institute. 

_Cause I remember how we drank time together_   
_And how you used to say that the stars are forever_   
_And you dreamed about how to make your life better_   
_By leaving town, leaving town_

Ororo Munroe caught an air current, gliding over the forest, over the woods. The last time she had visited the Institute had been five years ago. She had been 32. Now, wrinkles were beginning to show on her brow from years of worry. Yet she also had smile lines on her face. Her eyes were duller and she was losing the grace that she had possessed in her youth. 

She had kept her emotions in check for nearly her entire life, but the overwhelming sadness had cracked her. Her emotions were effecting the weather and the atmosphere. A lightning storm - the avatar of her anger and despair - was beginning to rage. "Oh, Goddess . . . " she murmured, praying, wishing, that she had been at the mansion but two days ago. 

_Pack your bags, your smokes in your pocket_   
_You're wearing my locket around your neck_   
_Take your drag and wait for the Greyhound_   
_The world is your playground and you want to win_   


Evan Daniels floored the pedal, picking up speed. He was two miles from the Institute and he knew he was late. Feeling overcome by stress, he flipped on the radio, leaving it on the first station that he hit upon. He listened to commercials, not much paying attention to the ads, but instead to the sound. Once the commercials had ended, the Red Hot Chili Peppers began to play and he tapped the steering wheel to the beat. 

"Dude, this is not a good day for me," he muttered. Rain began to drip onto him and he was regretting his choice to drive the convertible. "I swear to _God_, I will _kill_ that weather man when I get back to the 'Burbs." 

_But when you're broken down_   
_And no one else is around_   
_You'll come running back to this town_   
_And I'll be there, yeah I'll be there_

Logan gunned the engine, speeding along the open road. Once he thought he saw Scott driving at, of course, the appropriate speed limit. But the man had aged too much to be Scott. Even the scent was slightly off. But who else but him would wear a pair of red glasses? 

He reached behind him to check the bag that was secured to his motorcycle. It was still there. 

Throughout the years he had been gone - which was far too long - he had grown sideburns and had picked up a rather bad habit of chain-smoking cigars. His healing factor had taken care of any emphysema, lung cancer, and heart damage that he might have gotten otherwise. 

_'Cause I remember how we drank time together_   
_And how you used to say that the stars are forever_   
_And daydreamed about how to make your life better_   
_By leaving town, leaving town_

"Remy, ya li'l Swamp Rat, you march down here right this instant!" 

There was the thumping of feet and Remy LeBeau hurried down the stairs, straightening his suit. "Je suis désolé, Chere," Remy apologizied. "We'll make it dere in time." 

"We better. This person is real important to me." Emotion didn't mark Rogue's stoic voice. She hid behind the anger of his running late, not thinking about the tears that so desparately wanted to escape from her eyes. 

"I know, Chere, I know. And I promise we'll stay as long as you like." 

"Ah know we will, Remy," Rogue said, turning away and walking to the car. She shut her eyes as she walked, a barrier against her sadness and frustration. 

_Nothing in life will ever come that easy_   
_Doesn't mean it has to be that hard_

Thirty minutes later, Logan, Rogue, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Evan Daniels, Kitty Pryde, and Ororo Munroe, plus the two guests - Remy LeBeau and Peter Rasputin - were drying their clothes in the entryway of the mansion, waiting for the Professor to join them. Ororo refused to make eye contact, knowing that everyone knew where the storm had come from, and that, for once, she couldn't stop it. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to hide them. Kitty did the same as Scott bit the insides of his cheek, and then his tongue to keep from crying or from rushing from the mansion in pure anguish. 

_I know you will find out who you are . . ._

By the time the funeral started, Ororo was nowhere to be found. The sky was still dark and overcast, as if the raindrops were trying to force themselves to spill out. Everyonce in a while, one would make it, spattering onto the open, polished pine coffin, water running down the face of the one they all held in the highest regards. The water ran like tears down her cheeks. 

_But when you're broken down_   
_And no one else is around_

"Kurt," a low, feminine voice came from the shadows. 

Kurt Wagner turned around, not knowing who to expect to see. He was disgusted when he met the eyes of the woman who had abandoned him years ago. "Hello, Mother," he said in a cold tone. 

"Kurt, I'm sorry . . . " 

"Don't be." 

"Let me finish." Mystique began again. "Kurt, I'm sorry for your loss. I love you. I never wanted you to be unhappy. I wish . . . I wish . . . I wish I could find the words to say how much I want you to be happy." 

Kurt swallowed and was silent for a long while. " . . . Excuse me," he said after a pause. "I have to say my last good-byes." Then, he turned and left. 

Mystique stood there, silent, tears streaming down her face, though she would later excuse them as raindrops. After she had regained her composure, she took her seat in the back with the rest of the Brotherhood. 

She never spoke of or to her son again, though she thought of him often. 

_You'll come running back to this town_   
_And I'll be there, yeah I'll be there_

Storm soared above the funeral, trying to prevent her emotions from destroying everything in her path. It was no use. In a torrent of angst, she let her powers run rampant about the sky; rain, wind, hail, thunder, and lightning all tearing through the X-Mansion's grounds. 

Below her, she saw Wolverine walking into the woods, looking for a place to be alone.__

_'Cause I remember how we drank time together_   
_And how you used to say that the stars are forever_

"Hey, Rogue," Evan said, approaching Rogue and her boyfriend Remy LeBeau. 

"Hi, Ev. Evan, I'd like ya ta meet Remy." 

Remy LeBeau stuck out his hand and Evan took it. "Bonjour." 

"Hey. Uhm, Rogue? Uh, how ya been?" 

"Pretty good . . . Ah guess. Ah mean, not anymore, no. But, other than this, Ah mean . . . " 

"Got it. I know. It was kind of a shock to me, too. She was so young. Man, she was cool. But . . . she had a good life. There were so many people who cared for her. I guess that's what really matters in the end, isn't it? How many lives you touch?" 

"Yeah. Ah guess so," Rogue nodded quietly, looking away. "But, God, Ah'm goin' ta miss her. She always . . . she was the only one . . . in the beginning . . . " Rogue was unable to stop her tears now. They flowed as freely as Storm's rain. 

Without thinking, Evan immediately gave her a hug, then backed away, allowing Remy to take over. "The fuckin . . . Legacy . . . " Rogue sobbed. "Ah didn't even know she was sick!"__

_And daydreamed about how to make your life better_   
_By leaving town, leaving town_

Scott approached the coffin, brushing a few stray strands of hair from the woman's sickly pale face. "If I'd just known," he said, his voice quaking. He couldn't stop crying. He leaned over her body, bowing his head as he spoke to her one last time before they would all push each other out of their minds forever. The person who had made them a family was gone. Without her, there was nothing. "I would have given anything to take your place. Anything to stop that virus. I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . . "__

_You're leaving town._


End file.
